


Shake It For Me

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, Humor, Twerking, bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2141862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old 5x05 spec fic in which Sam, Ryder, and Jake convince Blaine that he needs to twerk for them. Unfortunately, they're not alone in the auditorium when they do this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shake It For Me

“C’mon, man, you have to!” Sam folds his hands pleadingly, but Blaine isn’t convinced.

“Why do _I_ have to do this, again?” he asks, confused, hand on his cocked hip and eyebrows furled even harder than usual.

“Because you’ve got like the best ass in the glee club, bro!” Ryder chimes in helpfully from Sam’s left. The Dream Team, as Jake started referring to the four of them, are assembled onstage after dance practice for Nationals ended, still in their workout clothes.

“That was really gay, dude. Like full homo,” Jake says, leaning around Sam’s torso to give Ryder a suspicious glare. “Was Marley just a front?”

“No, man, I’m all about girls, but Blaine’s just got like this really round, bouncy ass – I’ve noticed it because it’s like the same height as Marley’s. Please don’t kill me for staring at your girlfriend’s ass,” Ryder replies, holding his hands up to his chest in surrender.

“Can we go back to the part about my butt?” Blaine cuts in, watching Sam push Jake back to his right side so Ryder doesn’t get strangled. “So, just let me make sure I understand this: you guys want me to twerk for you, because I have the ‘best ass in the glee club’?” His air quotes around “best ass in the glee club” were sharp enough to cut diamonds.

“And those shorts you’re wearing will show it off to full advantage! Man, if you’d worked at my strip club, you would’ve been able to buy the Batmobile by now with that ass,” Sam gestures enthusiastically at Blaine’s green-booty-shorts-clad ass while he makes his statement, causing Jake to unleash another suspicious glare.

“Am I suddenly in the Twilight Zone? Is Blaine about to say he’s dumping Kurt for Tina?” he asks, stepping away from Sam as though Sam’s going to pull out a laser and zap him with it.

“He’s my best friend, I’m allowed to say he has a nice ass!” Sam defends himself, crossing his arms over his chest huffily and giving a wounded look to Jake.

“Guys, guys!” Blaine intercedes again, waving his arms a bit to draw all their attention to him. “If I twerk for you now, will you promise to never talk about my butt again? It’s a little weird.”

Three voices simultaneously chime out “Done.”

“Fine,” huffs out Blaine resignedly. “Can I at least have some music?”

“I’ve got ‘Ass’n’Titties’ on my iPod!” Ryder responds joyfully. “Where’s the speakers?”

Blaine facepalms hard enough to make an audible “thwack” noise while Sam turns the iPod dock on the lip of the stage back on and cues up the music. Once it starts playing, Blaine slowly starts popping his ass to the rhythm, looking uncertain.

“Am I doing it right?” he calls out, surprised to see looks of complete wonder and joy on all three of his friends’ faces.

“Faster, man, faster!” Sam yells back, spanking the air with his hands in encouragement.

“It’s like Christmas has come early,” Ryder whispers to Jake, whose response is “I think I understand what you meant about his ass now, bro.”

Blaine obediently starts twerking faster, eventually losing his inhibitions and popping his ass dramatically while making the sexiest faces he can muster. As the song comes to a close, he manages to spin while twerking, causing the other boys to applaud wildly while breaking down in laughter.

“Aaaaaaand cut!” comes a voice from the stage left wings. All the boys turn rapidly to see Kitty walk out from the front-most wing, a look of pure delight on her face and cell phone in hand.

The exclamations come out jumbledly.

“Kitty!” Ryder.

“What are you even doing?” Sam.

“Did you film that?” Jake.

“Delete that right now, oh my God!” Blaine, voice rising a few octaves in shock.

“Oh hell no, I’m not deleting this,” Kitty laughs, tapping away at her phone screen. “In fact, in three…two…one…it’s on YouTube now.”

“WHAT?!” Blaine explodes, turning as red as Ryder’s “McKinley Football” T-shirt.

“I came back to grab my water bottle when I heard you guys blasting that godawful song and saw Blainey here shaking his moneymaker like a Polaroid picture and started recording it for posterity. I figure once he makes it big on Broadway or whatever the hell he plans on doing in the future this will be a nice memento of his glorious high school years,” she replies, still focused on her phone screen. “And now I’ve left a link to it on Hummel’s Facebook, so he doesn’t feel left out of the loop. Good deed for the day!” Kitty punctuates that statement with a bounce on her feet, a bright wave, and a quick exit, scooping up her water bottle from the stage manager’s station as she goes.

“Oh…oh my God,” Blaine whispers once he can finally get words out, burying his head in his hands and sinking to the floor of the stage.

“Dudes! It’s already got over 400 likes!” Sam exclaims, having pulled out his phone to see if Kitty was telling the truth. Ryder and Jake run to see over his shoulders.

“It’s only been up for two minutes, how is that even possible?” Ryder asks, staring intensely at the video.

“I bet Kitty called in the Cheerio network as soon as it finished uploading,” Jake answered, also absorbed in the video. “Damn, this is really nice quality for a phone video.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear!” Blaine moans. “Oh my God, what if NYADA sees this? What if they don’t let me in?”

“Bro, you’ve got some sick rhythm going on in this – maybe they’ll think you’re some kind of dance progeny!” Sam replies, reaching an arm out to help Blaine back up.

“That’s ‘prodigy,’ Sam,” Blaine says, taking Sam’s hand and pulling himself off the ground. “Dance prodigy.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Sam asks confusedly, letting go of Blaine’s hand once he’s upright.

“Forget it. I’d better get home and-” Blaine’s cut off by his phone ringing from his hoodie pocket offstage. He runs to grab it and sees that it’s Kurt.

“B, what the hell did I just watch?” Kurt asks once Blaine answers, foregoing a hello.

“Well, you see…” Blaine starts to explain, heading out of the auditorium toward the parking lot.

(He finds out the video went viral the next morning as he’s watching _GMA_ during breakfast. The sore throat that results from choking on his cornflakes almost prevents him from singing that day. Kitty, meanwhile, proclaims herself his manager and starts trying to book him for Shakeweight infomercials.)


End file.
